


Ours

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 20:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: Now he’s just a renter whose permanent address is on a two year lease that’s never going to be something they can just pay off.





	Ours

**Author's Note:**

> happy 9/4 nijihimu!!

Shuuzou’s going over old tax forms and account stuff when he comes across all the stuff about his house in Jersey. He hasn’t lived there in a year and a half, really; maybe it’s longer than that considering how long he’d spent living half the time at Tatsuya’s place in Hell’s Kitchen, renting a space in the giant garage by Tatsuya’s place for his car, commuting out to Newark every day via the jumbled systems of roads and bridges and tunnels he’s become intimately familiar with. And, well, when he’d had the place he’d been a homeowner; now he’s just a renter whose permanent address is on a two year lease that’s never going to be something they can just pay off.

They can afford it, but they can afford not to rent, too, and it’s the kind of commitment they haven’t made to each other, that a year ago Shuuzou would have doubted either of them could, but Shuuzou’s ready for that now (and he doesn’t doubt Tatsuya, even if Tatsuya might not want to be the one to bring it up).

Shuuzou makes dinner that night; Tatsuya's been on his feet all day and even if he’s not going to admit it he can’t hide the way he holds himself well enough to fool Shuuzou (and Shuuzou doesn’t miss the painkillers he shoves into his mouth). Tatsuya doesn’t fight it, perched on a barstool and leaning back on his elbows to watch Shuuzou stand over the stove, one of those boring workhorse midseason dinners that they’re used to, chicken and pasta and steamed broccoli, nothing like what Tatsuya makes when he’s feeling good and they both have time.

“I was thinking,” says Shuuzou.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Shuuzou, exhaling. “About when I sold the house and stuff.”

Tatsuya’s face says he knows there’s more, that maybe he knows what Shuuzou’s leading up to, but he’s going to let him go there at this pace.

“Maybe we should buy a place,” says Shuuzou. “I mean, I love this place and theoretically we could rent forever, but…”

“Yeah,” says Tatsuya, getting to his feet slowly and walking towards him. “We won’t be making this much for that long. And, you know, you didn’t choose it.”

Shuuzou hums, pulling Tatsuya in to rest his chin on Tatsuya’s shoulder. That’s true, and it had taken him a while to stop thinking of the apartment as Tatsuya’s place, even after they’d started going halfway on the rent and after he’d brought the few pieces of furniture that hadn’t been cheap shit he’d bought just to have somewhere to sit or rest his feet or keep his crap. He might not have chosen it (he wouldn’t now, without the sentimentality attached) but it’s still theirs.

* * *

It would be easy to just leave the conversation as a one-off, a suggestion, especially when Shuuzou’s off on a road trip three days later but it’s not hard for Shuuzou to browse StreetEasy at the airport or in the hotel room and email pages full of links for Tatsuya to go through and mostly reject and add his own. They’re hitting more than they miss by the time Shuuzou gets back (elevator, not above the fifteenth floor, extra bedroom, prewar where you can find it, stick to Manhattan) and Tatsuya’s lined them up for a few open houses.

They’re probably not going to strike gold the first time; Shuuzou reminds himself of this. It’s good to see a few places and then have a good idea what he’s looking at; they’ve both been off the market for so long that it makes sense. It’s hard not to be excited when they get off the train though, at a station that feels like it’s maybe twice as far up Manhattan as Shuuzou’s ever been. The building isn’t that far of a walk from the station; the streets are lively and they pass a grocery store and a few fruit stands and a pharmacy, a McDonald’s, a library. The building itself is nothing exciting, but nice to look at; they buzz into the apartment and head up to the fourth floor.

“Welcome,” says the agent showing the open house, extending a hand.

Shuuzou and Tatsuya both shake, and Tatsuya heads off toward what looks like the kitchen.

“Do you need me to show you around?”

Shuuzou shakes his head. “We’ll ask if we have any questions.”

He follows Tatsuya into the kitchen, and understands right away why there were only pictures of the living room and bedroom on the online posting. The kitchen isn’t dirty or even totally hideous, but it’s clearly in need of work. There’s no stove; the refrigerator and the microwave are clean but don’t look like they’ve been updated since the 1980s. The countertop is a neutral tan color and so are the cabinets, although there’s a distinct lack of them considering how much space there actually is in the kitchen (probably enough for a dishwasher and some more storage space, too).

The rest of the apartment is in better condition; the bedrooms are spacious and there’s a lot of light in all of the rooms; the bathroom could use a little work but nothing major. The closets are big enough to fit all of the stuff Tatsuya wants to hang onto but has no real place for, that’s already spilling out of the closets they have.

“We’d have to renovate the kitchen,” Tatsuya says to the agent.

“Yeah, you’d probably want to put in a stove," he says. “But that could be done easily, especially if you’re okay with staying where you are for a while longer.”

“We have seven months on the lease,” says Shuuzou.

“Well,” says the agent. “I’ll be frank; this place has been on the market for about a year. No buyers. If you need time to think about it, or if you want to put in a lower bid…”

“We’ll think about it,” says Tatsuya. “Thanks.”

* * *

It’s a good thing they hadn’t told the agent no outright, because the next few apartments they visit are all pretty underwhelming, places they really can’t see themselves living. Too far from a garage, not enough light, low ceilings, tiny kitchens that even renovations couldn’t make that much better, bad layouts. They go back and look at the first apartment, the listing that’s still there, and toss the idea of getting it and renovating it back and forth.

Then they find another apartment, in a large building a few blocks away from them, listed at a little beyond what they’d like to pay for the square footage but it looks awfully nice in the pictures. It’s even nicer in person, a fast elevator up to a clean landing, and when they step inside Shuuzou already wants it. The foyer is spacious; the wood floor is bright. The kitchen is bigger than the one they have now, bigger than big-for-a-New-York-apartment big, with enough cabinet space and two sinks, dark granite countertops and wood details.

“Shuu,” Tatsuya says.

“I know,” says Shuuzou.

They go into the master bedroom, and there’s another couple already there, looking similarly pleased with the place. Shit, of course, Shuuzou wonders how high they’re willing to bid.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” says the woman. “We’re just looking around. The closets are a little small, though.”

Shuuzou opens one; it looks pretty big to him. Tatsuya nudges Shuuzou, jerks his head as if to make a point. Shuuzou raises an eyebrow.

“The windows are kind of big," says Tatsuya. “That’s a lot of light, but of course people could look in…”

“That’s true,” says the woman, and she looks at Tatsuya like she knows what he’s doing and now Shuuzou does, too.

He’s pretty sure Tatsuya’s not going to dissuade these people by pointing out potential flaws, and he seriously doubts he and Tatsuya can be discouraged when the flaws pointed out to them aren’t even real ones in the first place.

“The central air’s going to be a pain, too,” says Shuuzou, anyway, because that’s actually a real flaw, one he’d be able to deal with but isn’t particularly looking forward to. “For whoever buys it.”

“Indeed.”

The master bath is nice, though windowless, but by the time they’re done the other couple is gone. Hopefully not to put in a bid, and hopefully not a bid higher than the one they’re going to put in. At list price; it’s not worth much more than that, and the chances that the other couple will bid low are pretty high.

Or maybe not high enough, because they lose out.

“We didn’t want central air anyway,” Shuuzou says.

Tatsuya laughs at that, and Shuuzou wonders if they should just go all in on the first apartment and get the renovations done while they still have time.

* * *

It’s mostly by coincidence that they end up touring an apartment the next Sunday; Shuuzou’s practice ends early and he calls to tell Tatsuya he’s on his way back just before Tatsuya gets an email from their realtor that a place that had been bid for but then put back on the market is having an open house if they’re still interested.

It’s also within walking distance of their apartment, on the other side of the garage; it’s one of those squat prewar brick buildings Shuuzou’s always surprised to find out have elevators when they do. There’s nothing that stands out about the building, the landing, the entrance, directly into the living room. Tatsuya goes to look at the kitchen while Shuuzou heads off down the hall, past a bathroom and then the smaller second bedroom.

There’s something a little bit familiar about it, about the way the light from the side of the building comes through the dusty window and hits the wall, the sharp edges of the shadow of the open door. He hasn’t thought about the last time he’d been in the apartment in Tokyo in a while, a memory he doesn’t suppress but that he used to think about often. How empty it had looked, with all of his stuff gone, the things he’d kept in order to keep up some semblance of a life and a home there, the thing he’d wished for in different terms when he’d first had to share the bedroom with his younger siblings. The sense of being crowded out of a home he’d once found just big enough, replaced by the empty feeling of it being just his even though it was never supposed to be, but still not wanting to leave. Maybe not the kind of thing he wants to recall if he wants to buy this place, but it’s not like it hurt because it had come from a place of negativity. The room’s the wrong shape; his closet hadn’t had a mirror; that apartment had been laid out in a completely different way.

And it doesn’t matter and he wouldn’t even be sleeping in this room but it already kind of feels like home.

“Hey,” Tatsuya says, stepping in. “I checked out the kitchen—oh.”

“How is it?” says Shuuzou.

“I get the feeling you’d want this apartment even if I said it was just a plastic sink.”

“It’s not, though, right?”

Tatsuya laughs.

“Yeah,” says Shuuzou. “I want it. I can picture us living here.”

“They have central air,” says Tatsuya. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“I want this place,” says Shuuzou.

Tatsuya smiles at him. “Then we’ll get it. I want it, too.”

The fog is low across the river, obscuring most of the land except for the lower trees and the bases of a few buildings, as development gets closer and closer to the water. It’s a bad day for visibility, but the view is still striking, so much better than the other side of the street and the back alley they have now.

“Bid over the asking price?” says Shuuzou.

“We can afford it,” says Tatsuya.


End file.
